


He’s Nothing Like They Say

by CaptainC_Ham



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffeeshop AU, Hipster!Obi-Wan, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, Punk!Anakin, stereotyping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 10:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11229282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainC_Ham/pseuds/CaptainC_Ham
Summary: Anakin Skywalker is the centre of many a rumour. He’s popular and could — and probably does — have everything he wants. Yet, he befriends Obi-Wan Kenobi, a barely in the background kind of guy who works at the café Anakin regulars at. The same time, every day.4:30pm.It’s 4:30pm.





	He’s Nothing Like They Say

[Inspired by [this post](http://ohanxkin.tumblr.com/post/143719159657/one-of-my-favorite-headcanons-college-au-feat).]

**O** bi-Wan didn’t understand Anakin Skywalker and he doubted he ever would. Anakin was infamous, known all over the school — maybe even the entire town — and Obi-Wan was just some inconspicuous student working part-time at Anakin’s favourite coffeeshop. And yet, the twenty-one year old found himself being the seemingly only person Anakin was civil towards. Rumours were already circulating. “They’re actually good friends, but try to act like strangers in public.” “Friends? What are you talking about? Obi-Wan is the only person, ever, to be able to beat Anakin in a fight, so Anakin has to respect him and stuff so Obi-Wan never humiliates him in public.” “Actually, Anakin was the one who beat Obi-Wan up. Obi-Wan was the only person who accepted his loss honourably, so now they have mutual respect for each other.” On and on and on.

     Nonsense! It was all nonsense! Really, Obi-Wan did nothing. He simply took Anakin’s order and served it to him at the same time every day. (Though, to be honest, he never had to _take_  Anakin’s order since he had committed it to memory and the regular didn’t ever ask for anything else.) He and Anakin don’t even _talk_ ; Obi-Wan just hands over the warm cup of coffee and with a sharp nod of gratitude, Anakin makes his exit. Obi-Wan can’t blame him: The watchful gazes of people followed him everywhere, drilling into him with questions they were too scared to actually voice (Obi-Wan can’t blame them for that either, since Anakin simply radiated intimidation), and the café was no exception. As soon as the door closed behind Anakin, the silence ended and the whispering commenced. Hearing the hushed scuttlebutt always riled Obi-Wan up, and he had no idea why. For some reason, he hated those gossiping people’s guts. What right did they have to judge Anakin? What made them think they knew him?

     Sure, Anakin’s skin was littered with tattoos and he barely spoke outside of a formal setting (seeming to prefer to sulk and glare, though those tactics appeared to work in getting the message across just as well), and he had a rep as a notorious punk, given to him by staff all around. Not to mention his crazy motorcycling (with a wicked cool motorcycle to match) and the scar on his face from a motorcycle accident Anakin had been in. Obi-Wan accepted all of these facts and their attractiveness as the source of rumours, but that still gave others no right to label Anakin and, basically, pressure him into submitting to those labels.

     The question of why the heck Obi-Wan cared still remained. His best customer seldom uttered a word to him, and Obi-Wan himself essentially just said, “Here’s your coffee. Have a good day!” as was permitted of him to stay in his boss’s good graces. Obi-Wan had no more a right to get involved in Anakin’s business as the rest of the world had to gossip.

     For some unknown reason, this was what was on Obi-Wan’s mind that day during his break. Usually, he sat down in his usual spot by the front of the coffee shop and read a book while intermittently sipping his tea. (Ironic, he knows.) Today, however, had started off in a frenzy and Obi-Wan had neglected to bring a book. The library was too far away for Obi-Wan to make it there, find an interesting book he had never read, check it out, and come back in time to read a decent way in. And he brushed off the option of doing schoolwork on his laptop; he wasn’t behind or struggling so there was no point, and he didn’t want to waste his time idly exploring the Internet. Thus, he had found himself staring out the coffeehouse’s large front window with a half-full mug in hand, his thoughts consumed by the mysterious Anakin Skywalker. But _why_?

     The door opened with its signature chime, but Obi-Wan was not distracted from his speculation. Everyone was coming and going; the door opening was nothing special. He was still lost in thought when someone heaved a loud sigh and sat across from him. “This is nowhere as good as yours.”

     Somehow, Obi-Wan recognizes the voice, despite only hearing it speak approximately five words in the past nine months. His head swivelled around at an alarming speed just to look at the young man — probably nineteen years of age — lounging in the other metal chair at the small corner table the tea lover always took.

     Anakin Skywalker continues talking before the startled, other student can gather his wits enough to speak. “I offered everyone in the line to go before me so I could stall and wait for you,” he said. “I thought maybe you were in the bathroom or something, though I kind of hoped you weren’t since you never know who washes their hands.”

     Obi-Wan snorted before he could stop himself. He flushed, mortified, but Anakin tossed him a lopsided smile that calmed his nerves down somewhat.

     “Eventually,” went on Anakin, “I was the only one in line, so I ordered to this girl up there. I asked where you were, and she said you were on break. Said that technically your break ended a few minutes ago, but the boss let you have some extra time since you seemed so focused and stuff.”

     Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. Whoops.

     “But, anyway,” concluded Anakin, “the girl’s no match for your coffee-making skill.”

     The twenty-one year old smirked. “Give Padmé a break,” he said, having finally found his voice. “She’s new. You never know, in a few months’ time you just might prefer her service over mine.”

     Anakin returned the mischievous grin. “Doubt it,” he replied. “I want your coffee and yours only.”

     Obi-Wan tried to shove back the blush, but he suspected a bit of his embarrassment snuck past his defences. “Well,” he said, “I can give you a remake. Free of charge.”

     His fellow college student smiled. “Really? You’d do that, for little ole me?” joked Anakin.

     Obi-Wan shrugged. “Why not? We’re kind of acquaintances now, well on our way to being friends.”

     The renowned motorcyclist seemed to like those terms. “Okay then,” he agreed, sticking his hand out for a formal, seal-the-deal handshake. “Okay.”

     The older of the two shook the younger’s hand, which was calloused and firm yet gentle, before standing up to make his _acquaintance_ ’s drink. He wouldn’t deny it — he allowed the tips of his fingers to linger just an instant. When Obi-Wan got back, Anakin had disposed of Padmé’s “version” of the beverage and had already chosen a new conversation topic.

     “So why were you staring into space earlier?” asked Anakin, watching his server lower himself into his seat from over the top of his cup, which he was holding up to his face.

     Obi-Wan didn’t know what to say at first — did he tell Anakin the truth, that he had been thinking about none other than Anakin himself? Then the answer hit him: Of course not! What was he thinking?

     He, Obi-Wan, settled with a half-truth. “I forgot the book I’m reading at home,” he said. “Normally I’d be reading on my break, but, well, that’s hard to do without a book.” Obi-Wan paused. “Of course, _technically_ , I’m re-reading this particular book. Can you blame me though? _To Kill a Mockingbird_ is such a good story — ”

     “Wait,” interrupted Anakin. “You’ve read _To Kill a Mockingbird_?”

     Obi-Wan snorted — _again_ — though this time he was too excited by the conversation topic to care. “At _least_ three times,” he replied truthfully and shamelessly.

     Anakin seemed to perk up, picking himself up from the slouch he had himself in. Soon, the two of them were conversing at breakneck speed about not only _To Kill a Mockingbird_ , but fine literature in general. Obi-Wan was so engrossed in the conversation — and maybe, a little, in Anakin and his unruly light brown hair, brilliant blue eyes, and always-moving hands — that he didn’t even notice the staring eyes following Anakin around had begun to include him in their daily Coffeehouse Scrutinization.

     At some point, the topic shifted. They had probably been talking about some book that had a theme of societal pressures or assumptions or something of the like, for Anakin mentioned the scar on his face, saying with a scoff, “It was a little accident, seriously, since this stupid scar is the biggest injury suffered. And everyone makes a big deal out of it! They all think I’m this awe-inspiring tough guy who survived a newsworthy traumatic event like some ‘Chosen One’ hero from a story, when all I did was be stupid and get in a fender bender that toppled over my motorcycle. I hit my head on the curb, and I was dizzy and bleeding, sure, but I didn’t even pass out.”

     Obi-Wan flinched. “You seem to be _grateful_ you cut your face on a giant block of stone,” he noted almost incredulously.

     Anakin shrugged. “I’m grateful I _only_ cut my face on a giant block of stone,” he reasoned. “I was lucky; safe from _actual_ harm.”

     Obi-Wan almost couldn’t believe it, but after conversing with Anakin for some time he deduced his new acquaintance was the type of person who wouldn’t think fender benders were legitimate causes of concern. “Your idea of ‘safe’ is not the same as mine,” he chuckled awkwardly.

     Anakin was about to respond when Obi-Wan’s boss, Qui-Gon Jinn, called from behind the counter: “Obi-Wan Kenobi, I believe your break has gone on long enough. Get back up here!”

     “Yes, sir,” called back said employee as he got to his feet. This time, _he_ reached out his hand. Anakin looked at it for a second before gripping it — firmly, gently — and shaking. Obi-Wan was smiling uncontrollably inside, but externally he kept a straight face since literally everyone in the shop was staring at him. “I’m sorry about having to cut our discussion short. This was quite the thought-provoking conversation, and you’re quite the captivating interlocutor.” (Obi-Wan almost said “You know a surprising lot about literature,” but stopped himself just in time.)

     Anakin gifted Obi-Wan with another one of his lopsided grins. “As are you,” he said, letting go of Obi-Wan’s hand. “And there’s no need to apologize. I have to get to class anyway.” Anakin gave an exaggerated sigh. “Who knew mechanical engineering would demand so much of me?”

     Obi-Wan smiled. “You should try majoring in English sometime,” he joked. Anakin returned the smile, and, pleased with himself, Obi-Wan said, “I’ll see you around, acquaintance.”

     Anakin opened his mouth to answer when his eyes widened with what seemed like horrified realization. Then, instead, he nodded curtly and left without a word, which made Obi-Wan droop a little. _Back to the wordless exits, are we?_

     “Obi-Wan!”

     “Right, coming!”

 

* * *

 

The next day, Obi-Wan could barely keep his excitement contained as four-thirty approached. That was Anakin’s usual time to come to the coffee house, but today just had to be the one day he was late.

     It was nearly five when an anxious Obi-Wan finally saw Anakin’s face. The door opened almost violently with that special chime and all heads looked up.

     “You claim to be the bravest kid on campus, and you can’t even do this?” a shorter girl was saying loudly to a certain tomato-faced mechanical engineering student. “Get it over with!”

     “Ahsoka, wait — ” Anakin reached out to the girl, but she, apparently, was having none of it. She slammed the door in his face and pointed sharply at the counter. Anakin heaved a sigh of defeat and she crossed her arms with a huff of victorious defiance.

     Anakin dragged himself over to the counter and gave Obi-Wan a split-second glance that almost wiped the smile off of the server’s face. “So…your regular?” he asked, still smiling brightly. When Anakin only grunted in response, Obi-Wan’s cheerfulness faltered. He allowed his gaze to drop to the floor as he prepared Anakin’s drink, trying to sort through his thoughts and emotions.

     “H–How’s mechanical engineering going?” inquired Obi-Wan, hopeful and deciding to try again.

     After a painfully still moment, Anakin mumbled, “Fine.”

     Obi-Wan’s heart sank through the floor and, disappointed for so many reasons, he gave Anakin his drink. “Here’s your drink. Have a nice day.” He saw Qui-Gon’s pointed look but didn’t really care that his boss was probably irritated about his monotone.

     Anakin in turn slapped a couple pieces of paper onto the counter and slowly stalked off. Obi-Wan scowled and angrily grabbed the bills. He was about to shove them into the register when he realized one of the “bills” was not a bill at all, but rather a blank piece of paper. However, it wasn’t blank either — it had ten digits scribbled on it, along with messily written letters that spelt “Anakin Skywalker”.

     Obi-Wan grinned almost giddily and looked up in time to see the door open and close with a chime.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ’Eyy! This is my first story on AO3 so please do leave some constructive criticism in order for me to better myself in my later works. I know this one-shot is far from perfect. For one thing, I have never been to university/college (except for that one week, but we never speak of that anymore), so I have no idea how it works. There are certainly more mistakes than that one shortcoming, of course, so feel free to call me out (respectfully) on them!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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